Double Fugue
by greysw
Summary: The thing about Cylon projections, Boomer doesn't explain to Tyrol, is that they're always influenced by what you want to see. A Boomer-centric AU story set during "Someone To Watch Over Me".


"Let's consider who it was that dreamed it all. [...] You see, Kitty, it must have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream, of course -- but then I was part of his dream, too!" - Lewis Carroll, _Through the Looking-Glass_

---

The thing about Cylon projections, Boomer doesn't explain to Tyrol, is that they're always influenced by what _you_ want to see. Even shared projections are never quite the way one's partner would have seen them. For instance, a Two sees a stream. A Five sees a mountain. They touch, and together they see a hill, or a field of broken slate, or the ocean. It's not the whole truth of what each Cylon would have seen, but it's not exactly a lie, either. It's a matter of compromise, of blending the images so they fit everybody at once.

When Boomer touches Galen's hand, there is a house. It's a place for her and Galen, and it opens out onto a forest on Picon, full of tall trees and white light. The walls are made of wood and yellow plaster, and behind one of them lives a little girl, _their_ little girl. She looks like the two of them, and she is beautiful. None of that is a lie.

At the same time, there is a place for her and Cavil. It is made of living steel and organic glass, wrought in countless towering spires of metal. The walls pulse with red light, and behind one of them lives a little machine, their little machine. She looks like the two of them -- like the two best machines in the universe -- and she is beautiful, too. All of that is the truth.

Thus, it's easy for her to tell Tyrol something that isn't a lie. It's easy to let him paint their dream with a little more plaster, a little less platinum. She's had practice, after all; it's just as easy to let Cavil do the same from the other direction.

Sometimes she wonders if there's a little machine in _his_ dream. Is their daughter really there? Their beloved creation? Or is that room empty when Cavil projects, empty the way she sometimes thinks his heart is?

Just the same, now that she's seen it, she knows she'll always wonder if there's a place for her in Tyrol's dream. When she's not there to help paint the dream, does Cally Henderson stand where she does? Or Tory Foster? Or is there no one at all?

After everything they've been through, is Galen empty, too?

Boomer will never know. Despite the seeming perfection of projection, no Cylon can ever truly touch the dream of another; that's one of the human flaws Cavil always rails against. When she thinks about it, it makes her angry, too. But she's learned to glean little truths from projection -- not the whole truth, of course, but bits of it.

She wants to be a better machine, but she doesn't _lust_ for it, not the way Cavil does. In their projection, though, she really is one: a shining machine, rendered in perfect detail, right down to the most insignificant bolt. That's how she knows that Cavil wants her to be there; she could never have done that herself. Never.

Likewise, Galen's house is perfect. He wants _that_, no doubt about it, though she's not exactly sure about everything else. And there's another thing she could never have put there, something he probably doesn't even notice: Galen knows the music, the song which fills the universe. It's the song the Cylons need to hear, the song that'll make everything clear, and it is playing in his projection, at least for a while.

Cavil's always saying that the Cylons ought to keep an eye out for what he calls the "main chance", that special moment when opportunity knocks. As she waits for Galen to switch her with the unconscious Eight, Boomer thinks that there must be _some_ opportunity in this. Maybe she could convince Galen to go with her to the Colony? Or maybe she can get him to hum the song into a recorder?

She takes her time on her way to find and wreck Athena, walking the long way around, mulling it over in her mind... and then, suddenly, she hears the song again, hesitant and slow.

Boomer backtracks along the corridor and peeks into the bar, seeking the music. Starbuck is there, plinking away at the piano in the corner, muttering to herself as she pokes at the keys. Then she lifts her hands, glances to one side as if someone were sitting there beside her, and plays. Tigh and Ellen jerk upright in their chairs, staring. The tune resonates in Boomer's bones, too, whispering like a hidden message: here there be secrets. "X" marks the spot.

While her illustrious "parents" are distracted by Starbuck's mad ramblings about an invisible father figure -- Boomer half expects them to look inside the frakkin' piano next! -- it isn't too hard to snag a forgotten piece of paper off the back of the bench.

Twelve little dots. Twelve notes for twelve Cylons... and something secret, too. She's sure of it. Something more valuable than gold; maybe even more valuable than Resurrection.

Boomer smiles. All of a sudden, she has something better than a squalling genetic curiosity to bring back to her Cavil. This bit of paper will make all their dreams come true... and now, more than ever, she can almost be sure she'll be in them.


End file.
